


Here a Dragon, There a Dragon

by GutterBall



Series: Dragons and Princes and Promises, Oh My! [4]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Dragon AU, M/M, Yancy is overprotective, and also a smug shit, cussing and fluff, meet the rellies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 09:02:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14541303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GutterBall/pseuds/GutterBall
Summary: Chuck and Raleigh are settling in, getting used to sharing space, and Chuck decides to go exploring his new home whilst Raleigh is out hunting up a surprise for him.He's not pleased when another dragon shows up.





	Here a Dragon, There a Dragon

Chuck leaned against the warm, slow bellows of the dragon's side, full of fresh-roasted boar and tired from the sleepless night and the stressful emotional rollercoaster of a day. It was pleasant here in the flickering firelight of the lair, pillows piled high, Raleigh's heat drowsy and comforting, the slow, lulling rhythm of the dragon's respiration almost tidal.

Again, he thought how easily he could get used to this.

Smiling softly, he idly wondered how long it would take for his old man to contact him. He yawned, wondering if Herc would even give him a single day without a reminder of his duties, but the thought didn't rankle as much as it might if he were in his own tower room. He'd never been under physical lock and key there, of course, but chains of strained affection and expectation and godforsaken _duty_ chafed just as much as actual shackles.

At his back, the dragon shifted a bit, then suddenly shrank. With an indignant squawk -- it echoed repeatedly because the lair was also a cave, and a fucking massive one, at that -- he flailed over backward and ended up bent awkwardly over Raleigh's naked human back while the rotten sod smirked sleepily at him over his shoulder. Glaring -- but not as annoyed as he probably should be because Raleigh's human form still carried the muzzy warmth of his bigger self, and the skin under his hands as he tried to shove himself up without groping anything he didn't yet have permission to grope was like satin over polished marble muscle -- he grunted.

"Little warning next time?"

Huffing, the wanker shrugged, conveniently flexing a mouthwatering breadth of shoulders and expanse of back. "Sorry."

He didn't believe that for a second, but there was a naked, gorgeous human bloke lying on his stomach in a pile of pillows, and Chuck figured that counted as an invitation to join the status quo. Shucking out of his clothes -- but folding them neatly and putting them aside because he wasn't a goddamn heathen and his mum had raised him better -- he eyed Raleigh for any sign of discomfort or embarrassment and was pleased to see none. The bloke just watched, eyes half-lidded and reflecting the firelight, a hint of a grin on his full, pretty lips.

Oddly enough, when he finally stood naked in front of the beauty lounging on the pillows, he felt the annoying urge to fidget. It wasn't that he'd never been naked with a bloke before. He'd tried to be with sheilas, and when that hadn't worked and he admitted where he really wanted to be, he'd had plenty of success with blokes. He wasn't a shy virgin in any sense of the word.

But Raleigh's sleepy-eyed gaze held almost tangible weight as it swept him from messy ginger hair to bare toes. Finally, the dragon in human form spoke, his voice low and thrumming.

"My body looks good because of magic."

Chuck didn't argue. The bloke looked like a wet dream, all pale peach skin and fascinating scars and rolling muscle and that goddamn little smile. It turned into a smirk, even as he watched, fighting the urge to cover his package.

"What's your excuse?"

He blushed, cursing under his breath, and tried to shake off the fidgets by crawling up the pile again to lie beside the pretty sod and curl up against that satiny, warm, perfect skin.

"No use pouring the butter boat over my head, mate." Settling with his cheek on the bloke's shoulder blade, he finally managed a grin. "I'm a sure thing."

Raleigh snorted and squirmed a little, conveniently worming his way a little further under Chuck's obliging bulk. "Get some sleep, handsome. You can be a sure thing in the morning."

Muttering even as he wrapped his arms around the human body like he rather wished he could the dragon's massive bulk, Chuck nuzzled satin skin and breathed in something that almost smelled like a good, comfortable campfire but was probably just the slowly dying flames in the roasting pit Raleigh had set up closer to the mouth of the cave, away from the pillow pile.

"The name's Hansen, by the way."

A low hum rumbled against his face through the bloke's back. "I said what I meant."

Sighing, Chuck settled again, closer still. "I'd pay good money to have you read to me with that voice, mate. Smooth as goddamn silk."

"Do you like books, then?"

Sleepy and comfortable and ready to sleep soon -- but not quite yet -- he hmmed an affirmative. "Got a whole load of them at ho-- er, back at the castle, yeah? Reckoned they were too goddamn heavy to bring along, though."

A big, warm hand reached back and settled heavily on his thigh. It felt bloody awesome -- not possessive but comforting.

"I used to hoard books. Gave 'em away when I couldn't remember why I'd gathered them up in the first place." Another soft, resonant hum. "I think I liked the look of the spines all lined up in rows. Like I lived in a giant library."

Huffing softly, he nuzzled again and closed his eyes. "Sounds like heaven."

"Hm."

He waited for the bloke to go on. Raleigh stayed quiet, though, and before he knew it, Chuck was already asleep, snuggled up against the perfect body of the bloke he got to marry some day soon.

\--

The fire was nothing but ashes when Chuck awoke, chilly but not actively cold because he was practically swaddled in blankets, which rendered him nigh immobile in the instability of the pillow pile. Blinking away sleep, he tried to reach for Raleigh, worked an arm free from the ludicrously thorough wrappings, then reached out again.

No Raleigh. Not in reach, anyway.

Wiping the sleep out of the corners of his eyes, he struggled up until he could sit comfortably and blearily look around. No Raleigh in all the cave he could see.

Huh.

Scratching grumpily here and there -- unless he misremembered, he'd been promised morning sex, and it was damn chilly without a dragon body to cuddle up against -- he extricated himself from the blankets and pillows, cursing as everything kept trying to trip him or slip out from under his feet. He somehow managed to avoid faceplanting on the cave floor, but it was a very near thing.

"Oi, Raleigh!"

His shout echoed back at him, but there was no response. Huh. Maybe the bloke had gone to hunt up some brekkie?

Shrugging and reckoning the dragon would be back sooner or later, Chuck stretched tall and loudly, slumped and scratched his belly, then looked about. Other than the big pile of pillows and the firepit, the cave was almost depressingly bare. It occurred to him suddenly that he had no idea if it was bizarre or not for a dragon to live alone with nothing to hoard but pillows. It seemed... lonely, somehow. Like Raleigh should have more... just... _more._

Maybe he should've researched more about the Dragons of the Old Soil. He could have at least brought the main book he'd pored over.

He needed to know more about how dragons lived. And about Raleigh, specifically.

So thinking, he eyed his clothes, decided that, since Raleigh never dressed at home, he wouldn't either, and headed further into the cave, away from the entrance. Several smaller tunnels broke off at the back. Admittedly, said tunnels were still large enough for a dragon to squeeze through, but they didn't have the arching expanse of the main lair.

The first tunnel twisted a bit, then opened out on an almost sheer drop. A few old, cracked and fragile bones littered the surprisingly verdant escarpment, as did the occasional, extravagant splash of what could only be dragon shit. This, then, was the loo. Smirking, Chuck took care of one of his usual morning functions standing naked and feeling oddly free, pissing off the edge of such an extreme drop and looking out over the wild countryside. He could do with a toothbrush and a shower, but he reckoned he could address those issues later. For now, this was the life.

The next tunnel trended downward. The further down it went, the chillier the air became, the smell almost dank but not actually stinking. Just... damp. Unfortunately, the drop became too rocky and steep for him to manage naked and barefoot, so he gave up before he could find the source of the wet in the air, but he assumed there must be some sort of waterway or pool further along. If it was fresh water, he might be able to rig up some sort of plumbing to get running water up in the main lair. Maybe even a heater. He could persuade Raleigh to bring him a tub and have a lovely hot bath now and again.

Grinning and brimming with plans -- and idly wishing for his drafting desk, because he needed to be working on schematics ASAP -- as he exited the tunnel, he paused at a quiet scrabble of talons on rocky scree. Like the rocky scree on the ledge at the entrance to the lair. He knew that sound, though it was only newly familiar.

Raleigh was back.

Plans for further exploration became instantly unimportant, and he hurried for the front of the cave with a wide, welcoming grin. Maybe morning sex was still on the menu, after all.

Sure enough, when he stopped at the mound of pillows, he was just in time to see the dragon's head peer around the slight turn at the entrance and eye the firepit. Chuck started to spout an appropriate greeting with just the right amount of innuendo, then paused.

Raleigh was acting weird.

Raleigh wouldn't be sniffing at the firepit, eyes narrow. Hell, Raleigh built the damn thing. And why wasn't he checking to see if Chuck was still asleep in the pillows? Or calling out some sort of greeting himself? It wasn't as if the bloke was shy.

Maybe... this wasn't Raleigh? Antique gold scales and electric blue eyes said it was. But... this dragon was just... _wrong._ Moved wrong. Acted wrong.

It wasn't Raleigh. There was a strange dragon in the cave. And Chuck didn't have so much as a rock to use as a weapon.

Right, then. Raleigh didn't have much, but this was the bloke's home, and Chuck was the only person here to defend it. He'd just have to improvise.

"Oi!"

The dragon's entire body tensed, head snapping up.

"The fuck are you and the fuck are you doing here?"

Blue eyes widened, then narrowed. The snout peeled back in a toothy snarl. The strange dragon stalked forward, coiled and tense as a cat ready to pounce.

_Oh, shit._

Tensing himself, Chuck crouched slightly and waited.

Sure enough, the big haunches bunched and the dragon sprang forward, talons reaching. Chuck rolled away and ran for the firepit, then barrelled right through it, snatching the spit's long pole as he went. He spun just as the dragon leapt again, then cursed and rolled away, swinging the makeshift club as he went. It thudded off the slashing talons, splintering but not quite breaking.

Dammit. He had one more hit with it, at best. And the dragon was on the move.

Cursing again, he snapped the splintered spot over his knee and switched his grip on the halves now broken apart. If he couldn't bash away, maybe he could stab out an eye. If he got close enough without getting smashed and slashed. Which was a big if.

Pillows scattered everywhere as the strange dragon lashed its tail in preparation for another pounce, and Chuck was suddenly fucking furious. This wanker was making a goddamn mess. All Chuck had wanted when he woke up was a piss, a toothbrush, and some morning sex. Now, he'd have to stack all the damn pillows back up and find another spit for the goddamn firepit and this dragon was a fucking _dick_ for sneaking in and making a goddamn mess of everything.

Shouting wordlessly, he launched his own attack instead of waiting to defend, running straight at the asshole of a dragon crouching and hissing and messing up his new home.

A roar from behind him damn near blew him off his feet, and he spun to face this new threat only to see another dragon -- no, that was definitely Raleigh; he recognized the length and curve of the bared fang he'd grabbed onto the night before and felt lightheaded with relief -- soar over his head and land gracefully but solidly between him and the other dragon.

The stranger roared and crouched, but didn't attack. Raleigh roared back, hunched down and tense. They were talking, Chuck realized, still gripping his makeshift weapon. Dragons apparently had their own language. Which made sense, though it reminded him that he should've brought his goddamn reference books because he didn't know nearly enough about the species he was about to marry into.

If these two wankers didn't kill each other first.

Then, out of nowhere, the stranger sat back on its haunches and chuffed up at the lair's ceiling. Laughing. The invading asshole was _laughing._

Snorting, Raleigh shook his giant head and turned to look at Chuck back over his shoulder. Then, he transformed.

Chuck had to remind himself not to get distracted at the sudden miles of gorgeous naked skin.

"Did you seriously just try to fight a dragon naked with a broken spit for a weapon?"

Not sure what was happening, he shrugged, keeping a wary eye on the still-snickering dragon at the back of the cave. "You bet your pretty ass I did. Wanker invaded your home, yeah?"

The snickering wanker suddenly let out a pained grunt, then transformed as well. Chuck thought he recognized that quick spasm of pain. This ratbag hadn't transformed for a while and wasn't used to it. Raleigh hadn't winced since that first transformation, anyway. Seemed logical.

"Chuck." Regaining his attention, Raleigh shook his head and walked over to wrap his arms around him in a vigorous hug. _"Our_ home. And I guess I shouldn't be surprised. You never were appropriately scared of me."

Most of his annoyance and wariness faded in a rush of unexpected, surprising warmth. When was the last time he'd been hugged? They'd snuggled in the night, of course, but....

"Awwwww."

The warmth faded, and he glared at the interloper who'd interrupted his moment's bliss. The first hug he'd had in longer than he cared to remember, and this interfering fuck had to go and try to ruin it.

"Yance." Raleigh sounded put out, but he reluctantly pulled away, trailing his hands down to catch Chuck's in his own. "Chuck, this is my brother, Yancy."

Brother?

Wide-eyed, Chuck looked the intruder over. Blond hair, a bit darker than Raleigh's. Blue eyes, a little lighter. A similar shape to the face. This new bloke was a bit shorter and stockier, but still built. Still looked damn good -- damn magical powers -- and there was definitely a family resemblence.

Brother. Huh.

Wait.

"Oi, why'd you attack me then, ya rat bastard?"

The wanker crossed his arms and smirked. "You were rude."

"Oi!"

Raleigh's hands squeezed his gently. Grumbling, he backed down. A bit.

"Seriously, the fuck was I supposed to do? A strange dragon was sneaking about, and I didn't have a goddamn weapon."

But Raleigh's head tilted, his grin going a bit crooked. "How'd you know it was a strange dragon? We look basically the same in dragon form."

He snorted. "No, you don't. Your fangs are longer and your eyes are a darker blue. And you move different."

Weirdly enough, Raleigh looked absurdly touched, and his wanker of a brother let out another sarcastic, "Awwwww!" But, since it resulted in another crushing but warm, fond hug, Chuck didn't complain.

For a few seconds.

"Okay, but seriously, mate, why'd you attack me? Not like I could've put much of a hurt on you with a goddamn stick."

The stranger gave him a narrow-eyed, searching look, then shrugged. "Raleigh said he had a new mate. He _didn't_ say it was a human. I didn't approve."

Bristling, Chuck straightened, though he didn't shrug out of Raleigh's grasp. "Oi! The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

The ratbag rolled his eyes. "It means I changed my mind."

"The fuck does--" Cutting himself off, he tilted his head. "Wait. What?"

Raleigh chuckled. "It means he approves now."

He blinked. "Oh. Right."

The wanker -- Yancy, and what the fuck kind of name was that? -- shook his head. "Any human willing to go toe to toe with a dragon without any armor or a real weapon is definitely crazy enough for my little brother."

 _"Yance."_ But Raleigh didn't sound as annoyed as he clearly wanted to. Instead, he let go enough to turn and actually face his brother. "Anyway, did you bring them?"

Still feeling a step back, Chuck frowned. "Bring what?"

"Of course I did. Left 'em outside."

"Left what?"

Raleigh squeezed his hand and grinned. "Close your eyes and stay right here?"

Giving up on either brother making any sense, he sighed and obligingly closed his eyes, rolling them as he did so. Raleigh gave him a quick kiss on the cheek -- no, he absolutely did not blush and feel that stupid, fond warmth all through him again -- and disappeared. Shuffling footsteps suggested his brother went with him, leaving Chuck alone in the cave.

Feeling stupid with his eyes closed and his back to the entrance, he turned around and crossed his arms to watch whatever the pair were up to, chilly again without Raleigh's body heat at his side. His jaw dropped as both brothers strolled back into the lair with huge wooden crates hefted casually over their heads.

Fucking dragons.

Raleigh grunted and shook his head. "Chuck. No peeking."

Unrepetent, he shrugged. "Too late now. What's all this, then?"

Both brothers put down their crates and pried off the tops. Chuck, curious and not annoyed enough to bother hiding it, went over and peered inside.

Books. Loads and loads of books.

Raleigh sidled up against him and elbowed him gently. "You said being surrounded by books sounded like heaven, so I asked Yance to bring what was left of my hoard. A few centuries back, I gave him the few things I just couldn't give up, even when I didn't want them around anymore."

Eyes wide, Chuck still managed a snort. "The _few?"_

The rotten sod smirked. "Anyway, the other crate is your books. I asked Herc if he'd box them up for me because you were missing them."

Suddenly, Chuck's throat felt like he'd swallowed a fist.

"We're working on a way to get your desk out of the tower because Herc said you'd want it, too, but... it's kinda big. We may have to section it off. I can carry it easy enough, but it definitely won't go down the stairs, so we have to get it small enough to go out the window. We're working on it."

He tried to swallow around the obstruction, but he couldn't.

"Chuck? Are you all right?"

Abruptly, Chuck was damn close to tears, and he turned and launched himself at Raleigh, clutching him tight enough to probably stress even a dragon's ribcage.

"Chuck?"

For him. Raleigh had brought all these books for _him._ Was trying to get his desk out of the tower. Was cluttering up his lair.

_For him._

"Chuck, seriously, I'm starting to worr--"

He kissed the gorgeous, thoughtful bastard, shutting him up and trying to assure him that everything was fine. Everything was fucking _perfect,_ and Raleigh of the Old Soil would be the sweet, precious death of him.

And he'd by God die happy.

Raleigh, good bloke that he was, kissed back with a smile, warm and strong and feeling more like home than all the books and pillow piles in the world.

Yancy, the wanker, cleared his throat.

Sighing, Chuck broke the kiss, snuck one more, then just leaned his forehead against Raleigh's. "No one's ever done anything like this for me before."

Squeezing him gently, Raleigh huffed softly. "It's not that much."

He sighed. "It's everything, mate."

Yancy cleared his throat again. "You'll... uh... need some shelves. I'll just... go get those, then."

Hmming softly, Raleigh stroked a hand up Chuck's back. "Take your time."

"Gross."

But the wanker obligingly transformed back and left the cave with more scuffling talons and tail-lashing than was surely necessary, and soon enough, they were alone.

Grinning a bit, he stroked his hands over satiny skin. "The pillows are all to hell and gone, mate."

Raleigh snorted, running his hand up into Chuck's hair, kneading the back of his neck, careful of his strength. "That can be fixed."

Greatly daring, he ran one hand down and over the curve of that perfect ass. "I don't have any lube."

Sighing warm breath against Chuck's cheek, the pretty bloke pressed closer. "Neither do I."

Chalking this up as a temporary impediment that was easily solved by a trip to the castle, Chuck grunted even as he gave that glorious buttcheek a gentle squeeze. "You can't magic up your own?"

Raleigh snorted and jerked his head back, incredulous. "Chuck!"

Not embarrassed in the slightest, Chuck smirked. "What? You can magic up some heirs, but you can't magic up your own slick?"

The most beautifully annoyed look crossed the bloke's pretty face. "I want to argue that logic so bad."

Snickering, Chuck gave one more little squeeze and backed away before his dick took too much more notice. It'd be hard to hide, since he had no intention of putting clothes on. "But you can't, so you won't, eh?"

Glaring with no heat, the bloke shook his head and bent to dig around through the crate of his old books. The view was mouthwatering. Chuck stared, unashamed. And impressed.

"You might regret that." The wanker dug around, shoving books aside, stacking others to get them out of the way. "Magic takes time to work. Are you willing to wait that long? Aha!"

He stood up with a heavy, thick tome held in both hands, leatherbound and cracked at the seams, the whole locked at both outer corners with iron padlocks.

Curious, Chuck watched as a key appeared in Raleigh's hand, apparently from nowhere. "You really think there's a spell for that?"

"Chuck, there's a spell for everything."

Smirking, he looked over at the other crate, wondering if his books on dragons were in there. Surely, Herc wouldn't leave them out. Only one way to know for sure.

"Luckily, we don't have to wait that long, although if you _can_ find a self-lubrication spell, you'd damn well better cast it on us both."

Raleigh's eyebrows shot up, but that was definitely a smirk quirking those lush lips. "You're all right with switching?"

He snorted and bent over to rummage around in the other crate, hoping the bloke was enjoying the view as much as he had. Oddly enough, it wasn't just books. Herc had thrown in some clothes and a few of his rolled-up schematics and other sundries.

"You're goddamn right I'm all right with switching. I fucking love it." Jesus, the old man had even thrown in his sketch pads and charcoals, likely in preparation for his desk being delivered later. It was rather nice, actually. "But for now, all we need is a trip back to the castle. I have-- oh, my God, Dad, no!"

"Chuck?"

Blushing so hard his ears burned with it, he stood up out of the crate and eyed the bottle in his hand with a mixture of amusement and mortification.

Herc had packed in a bottle of lube.

Closing his eyes, he shook his head and debated whether he wanted to strangle his old man or hug him off his goddamn feet. Wordlessly, he held up the bottle without looking back over his shoulder to see what Raleigh made of it.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Raleigh snorted. "He never misses, does he?"

Shaking his head again, he finally turned around, blushing but starting to be more amused than not. "He really, really wants grandkids."

Huffing, the bloke strolled closer, magic book under his arm. "Well, I can't oblige there quite yet, but what say we shove these crates out of the way, get the pillows back in shape, and see if we can make some use of that, anyway?"

A wave of heat rolled through him, and he bit at his lower lip. Unfortunately, just as he leaned in for a kiss that could go damn near anywhere, his stomach let out a grumble that quickly cycled up to a roar.

Raleigh, who had also been leaning in, chuckled softly. "Or... breakfast."

Fuck that. He could ignore his stupid stomach.

Until it roared again, louder this time.

"Goddammit." Sighing, he stood up straight and frowned. "Fine. Breakfast first. Sex after."

"Deal."

Of course, they had to tidy up first. Raleigh transformed and flew out to find both meat and a new spit pole whilst Chuck tossed all the pillows back to their usual area, reckoning Raleigh would arrange them the way he wanted them later, then shoved the firepit back into shape from his scramble through it. He was just using one of the shirts Herc had packed to scrub cinders and cave dirt off himself and idly wishing he already had a bath set up when Raleigh returned with two prairie chickens and a new spit to roast them on. He'd even brought along the nest and its three eggs. Thoughtful as fuck.

And after breakfast, Raleigh picked Chuck up in one of his big claws and slithered down the cooler, damper tunnel, easily managing the steep sections with his enormous dragon body, and they both had a relaxing, if cold, bath in a vast underground lake. It was lit all around with bioluminescent algae, glowing blue and green, and Chuck was enchanted. He talked at great length about setting up plumbing to bring water up to the cave so he could wash up without Raleigh having to bring him down every time, and Raleigh listened with flattering wide-eyed attention, clearly impressed.

They did finally make it to the pillow pile with lube in hand, but Chuck brought along his favorite resource book on dragons to read after, and Raleigh couldn't help but open it up to see how much of it was boarshit. After he read a few sections aloud and laughed about them, Chuck asked him to go on reading because he loved the sound of his voice. Soon enough, they were snuggled together in a comfortable sprawl, Chuck napping on and off as Raleigh read on, idly stroking fingers through Chuck's hair. It was bliss, and Chuck never wanted it to stop.

He was properly asleep long before Raleigh conked out beside him.

The bottle of lube rolled off to one side and stuck between two pillows, unused.

For now.

**THE END**


End file.
